The only thing keeping her upright was the familiar warmth of the man next to her. They both knew it was against protocol; everything that occurred in the past twenty minutes was. She knew that and so did her brother and Macil. Majin should have never let her go without speaking to their father first. Macil should have never touched her. There was a line that was supposed to be clear between them, but her brother caused Macil to step over it. Or was it her? Did she step over the line? She wasn't sure; it was more like the line was there and Majin hurdled one of them to the other side. But that wasn't what was important.
Out of the corner of her eye, as the two made their way towards her quarters, she could see the guards giving them odd looks. She knew it would be reaching her father before the end of the night. There had been a deal, three years ago. One that Aamae wasn't sure of entirely because everyone kept tight-lipped about it. All she knew was that after she woke up, Macil was installed as her personal guard, permanently squishing whatever hopes she had of being married to him gone.
"Are you alright, Your Highness?" he asked, his voice low. She wondered if he could feel her shaking. He probably could.
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she focused on her breaths.
In. Out. In. Out.
The doctor told her that should work, all those years ago. They told her it was a trauma, and, with time, she would be okay. She just needed to breathe and talk to someone. What they didn't know was that she had no one. Majin was constantly gone, and the only other person she thought she could talk to now answered to a different Le Rosa.
She was alone, and she will be for the rest of this life and probably the next.
Relief washed over her once she saw the familiar cream door that led to her own quarters. Her back muscles finally loosened, and she felt Macil remove his arm.
The warmth was gone.
She wrapped her arms around her midsection, her nails scraping against the hard material of the corset. She couldn't wait to get out of it. She couldn't wait to be alone. Alone, she had nothing to worry about.
It felt like a decade past before Macil opened the door for her, and she barely said a word to him as she brushed past him, not even acknowledging the bow he gave her.
She stopped in front of the mirror and witnessed the expression she must have had on her face during her party. It was one of pure terror as if she just witnessed a massacre and was waiting to be slaughtered next. Why did her father keep throwing the parties? Everyone knew what happened and how it affected her. They knew crowds bother her. So, why must they have a party?
She dropped to the ground, her legs finally giving out underneath her. She let out a shaky breath and heard footsteps approach her from behind. She turned, her heart-stopping for a moment. Was it another intruder?
Her shoulders slacked at the familiar sight of Macil. She had forgotten he was still there.
He crouched down in front of her, and her eyes immediately focused on what he was wearing. Why did it have to be the same? The black cloth stared back at her, taunting her, as if it was saying it remembered what happened and will never forget. That made two of them.
"Your Highness," he said, his voice low. She looked up at him. His eyebrows were scrunched together as he frowned, concern immanent in his eyes. It was a look that so was the un-personal guard that it took her by surprise. He hasn't looked like that in three years. For three years, he's shown nothing but a stoic expression. But why now? Why would he show any emotion to her when she's at her lowest? "Are you okay?"
YOU ARE READING
Aamae | To Crowns and Dreams | Book #1
RomanceIt's been twelve years since Aamae Le Rosa's father overthrew the long-reigning Kagwaa family and began his rule over Alkreva. Under his rule, his word is law, and no one, not even his own children, are safe from his wrath. And until three years ago...
